As Jack began speaking in a recently-dead language, Djedkare frowned gently. Placing a well-wishing hand on Jack's shoulder and bringing Jack's chin up to meet Djedkare's, Djedkare soothed Jack as best he could.

"Hey, sport. It's gonna be okay. We all gotta suffer some hardships in life. You know, I wouldn't beat myself up over losing my family, those kind'a things happen t'everyone!"

Djedkare spared a glance at Jack's sword. The boy had said something about how it was ancient and how it was missing a magical something or other. Judging by how pathetic it looked right now, that something or other was vitally important. Djedkare scoffed at the ridiculous habit these young'uns had when designing things. [i]Way[/i] too many moving parts that, if broken off, would ruin the whole device! 

"Now, listen: if that sword'a yers is made of a material that ain't reforgeable and can be ruined by takin' out that little kerjigger you got, I ain't too confident it's gonna help ya. You need yourself a tool made of sterner stuff. Now, see, when I was [i]your[/i] age, I used a good old-fashioned copper spear and a sling. It worked fer me, an' it's sure as hell gonna work fer you. 'Sides from that, you're gonna need t' grow a thicker skin. If ya cry every time ya think about yer hometown, you ain't gonna make it as an adult. Put the past behind ya, an' you'll be better off in the future!"

Djedkare looked hopefully into Jack's eyes. Maybe this child would be able to get over such a small thing as having his hometown destroyed. After all, Djedkare could get over spending the last few centuries trapped in a coffin and the loss of everything he ever knew.

[@Warlord297]